Burning Lies

by Helene Young

  ‘I’m certainly not.’ He ached in muscles he’d forgotten he had. His head was pounding from smoke and dehydration. He needed about twelve hours’ sleep. But that was all physical and fixable.

  His head, his heart? That was more complicated.

  In the middle of that burning maelstrom, he’d had an epiphany. He’d followed her to hell and back. They’d worked as a team, together, shoulder to shoulder in the intense heat. And he knew he’d do it all again in a heartbeat. From the look on Stan’s face and those of the other crew, they too would follow her into the heart of that fiery hell. A quiet leader, who influenced rather than ordered.

  It had tormented him, working so closely alone with her for the last hour. Temptation hovered within an arm’s length. He’d used every witty line he knew to distract himself, enjoying the sparring, the cut and thrust of her quick humour. He’d watched her almost cry with laughter and bend double, gasping for air. He’d been mesmerised by the tiny tip of tongue that appeared between her teeth when she concentrated on a manual task. He’d seen the lines fan out from her eyes as she smiled back at him. He’d reached breaking point. No turning back. Proceed with caution, mate. For once he wanted to claim something intrinsically good for himself.

  Kaitlyn picked up the checklist and slotted it into the wall-holder. ‘And I’m not in great shape, either. I’m shattered.’ She’d rolled her overalls down to her waist while she worked, and her T-shirt clung to her shoulders and back. The soot had settled like a fine veil over her translucent skin.

  He brushed his thumb across her cheek and it left a smudge, a stroke of war paint. ‘You don’t look too bad from here.’

  The smile didn’t quite make it to her mouth, but he saw it glimmer in her eyes. Tendrils of curling copper stuck to her temples, the steady beat of her pulse visible under her skin. He’d never seen anything so erotic, so compelling, so utterly desirable. His blood surged. He shifted his hips against the tightening in his groin. It left him lightheaded, but that didn’t stop him wanting this woman in a way he couldn’t comprehend, a way he’d never experienced before, a way that stole the air from his lungs.

  His brain screamed a warning. This was daunting territory, a tall waterfall plunging into raging rapids that would suck a man under, dash him against the jagged rocks and wash him up on the sand, broken and battered. He knew there could be no going back from this moment. The surge of his blood became a roar in his ears and his hand trembled as he ran the full pad of his thumb across her bottom lip.

  He saw the glint of white teeth between her parted lips, lips that felt dry beneath his touch. The intensity in her dark eyes reassured him he was not facing this moment alone. It pushed him past the point of return.

  ‘Kait,’ he murmured, the edges of his voice husky. ‘Do you know what you do to me?’

  The shake of her head was imperceptible and her eyes didn’t leave his.

  ‘You make me … believe …’ The words stuck in his throat. She made him believe he could find his way back, become a man he would respect again, but he couldn’t quite say it. Not yet.

  When she didn’t answer he leant in and placed his lips on hers, feathered a kiss across them, so light they barely touched. He felt her quiver, smelt smoke and sunscreen and that indefinable scent that was only hers. Her breath was a gentle intake, so small he shouldn’t have been able to hear it, but he did.

  Afraid to see rejection – or worse, pity – in her eyes, he closed his own just as her hand touched his waist. Her fingers curled around him an instant before her lips moved, parting, letting the tip of her tongue drift across them.

  His hunger exploded and he gathered her close, the groan of longing, of want, of pain, vibrating deep inside. Then she was pressed against him, one palm flat on his chest, the other stroking the muscles in his back. She gave more than she took, angling her head, drawing him deeper and easing the doubt in his heart. The heat of her mouth, the slick slide of their lips, electrified his senses. His breathing grew ragged.

  The curve of her waist, the soft press of her breast and the warmth of her skin were a comfort he’d craved without knowing it. His fingers tangled in her hair and he freed it from its band, spread it over her shoulders. The smoky smell of burning pines masked the floral tang of her shampoo. He released her lips, chasing the angle of her cheekbones up to her ear, then traced the curve of her jaw down, down to her neck, exposed as she arched her head back for him, her low moan tearing into him.

  His hands stroked down her sides, tracing the curve of her breast before sliding to her waist. He tugged at her T-shirt, but the cotton was sodden, clinging to her, and when it finally yielded, it lifted higher than he’d intended, baring not just her stomach but the bottom of a plain, beige bra. He’d always thought lace was his thing, but as he traced the line of underwire he changed his mind. Even Kaitlyn’s underwear was subtle, simple in an uncomplicated way.

  He cupped her breasts through the silky fabric, their weight and size surprising him. She was all womanly and soft against his angles and edges. It was heaven. She wriggled against him.

  ‘Ryan,’ she whispered.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Someone’s here.’ She drew away from him, straightening her T-shirt, shattering the moment. Instinctively, he tried to shield her, unsure what she’d heard.

  ‘Where, what?’ Clearing his head was taking all his effort. ‘Where?’ he repeated.

  ‘I just heard the outside door.’ She angled her head towards the back of the building, then scrubbed her hands down her face. Ryan glanced around in time to see a flash of orange overalls disappear into the tearoom.

  ‘Shit. Speedy,’ he whispered. This was bad.

  Kaitlyn groaned. ‘That’s going to ruin the team dynamics.’

  She brushed her hair back from her face and straightened up her shoulders. Ryan didn’t miss the slow blink as she regrouped. He needed to fix this now.

  ‘Hit me,’ he breathed in her ear.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Hit me, yell at me, then storm off to the truck.’

  ‘No.’

  He loomed over her. ‘Just do it. I’ll explain later. It’s important.’

  He saw the instant she realised what he meant, but he wasn’t expecting the shove to his shoulder. It sent him sprawling across the room and into the bank of lockers with a crash that echoed off the cement floors and walls. She turned on her heel and strode from the room. He heard the door slam behind her. Smart girl.

  He swore aloud, rubbing his chin for effect.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Speedy stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. Ryan wondered if the older man was going to take a swing at him.

  ‘Nothing. Just tripped over my big feet.’

  ‘Where’s Kaitlyn?’

  ‘She went outside. Needed some fresh air.’

  ‘I bet she did.’ There was no doubt in Ryan’s mind Speedy had witnessed the tail end of that kiss. He was pissed off and spoiling for a fight and Ryan was not about to oblige. Not yet.

  ‘You can lock up. I’ve got to drive her home. See you round.’ He brushed past the other man, half expecting him to lash out, but he didn’t.

  Ryan rattled the back doorframe as he left and then made a show of wrenching the door of his car open before slamming it once he was inside.

  ‘Just keep your head turned away and ignore me.’ The wheels spun and the four-wheel drive lurched forwards with a harsh clash of gears. A ute was parked on the verge. Its big bank of spotties caught his attention as he turned past it.

  ‘Who belongs to that ute?’ he asked.

  Without turning her head, Kait replied, ‘Speedy.’

  ‘Damn, I thought I’d recognised it.’

  He was a fucking idiot. He’d just jeopardised everything for a kiss? How stupid could he be? Speedy didn’t need any more reasons to dislike him and he didn’t want Speedy offside right now.

  He could see the tension in Kait’s fists, which were clenched on her knees. This was goi
ng to take some sweet-talking.

  The road was empty when they rejoined it, and Kaitlyn finally spoke. ‘So, what are you really investigating?’

  ‘Come again?’

  The look she gave him was long, measuring, before it changed to a slow, triumphant smile. ‘Bradley Ryan is a cover identity. I suspect you’re with the Feds, perhaps on secondment to some other agency. It’s no coincidence you’re here. I’m doing extra surveillance in aircraft looking for an arsonist and the countryside is burning, courtesy of some sick bastard. Are you with an arson squad?’

  ‘Not just a pretty face.’

  ‘Deflecting me with charm isn’t going to work.’

  ‘I’m really just a burnt-out fireman, if you’ll pardon the pun.’

  She snorted. ‘Did you run my name through your computers?’

  He grinned, thankful she at least didn’t seem angry with him. ‘I prefer to get to know my neighbours the old-fashioned way.’

  ‘Well you should have googled me. You might not have been so quick to cosy up if you had, but that’s another matter.’

  Two road trains roared past and she waited until they were clear. ‘I used to work in a department specialising in confirming people’s identities. Part of the AFP.’

  He only just managed to keep his interested smile in place. This conversation had taken a turn in the wrong direction.

  ‘I can still do some digging and I can confirm your identity is a cover. I think you are Ryan O’Donnell, a federal policeman from Sydney. Exactly what you’re doing here has eluded me so far, but I will work it out if you won’t tell me. And you’ll just tick me off if you don’t share. So?’ She gestured with her hand, a beckoning motion. ‘How about you tell me the truth so I can decide whether we get to lock lips again or not?’

  He couldn’t stop his short laugh. She’d taken him completely by surprise. ‘So, if I pass your security check we can pick up where we just left off?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Ryan O’Donnell? Good name. Comes from a nice family, does he?’ He was not going to admit anything just yet.

  ‘Actually, I’d have to say no, he doesn’t, but then it’s not my place to judge. However, having an overachieving father and a social-climbing mother may not be the easiest thing for an only child. Lucky you had Great Uncle Jerry.’

  The vehicle kicked as they went round the next corner. His hand had tightened involuntarily on the wheel. He corrected it, searching desperately for a way out of this minefield. He couldn’t tell her the truth; too much was at stake, too many rules already broken. She was watching him with those warm brown eyes, waiting for an answer.

  ‘So, Ryan O’Donnell, what’s it going to be? The easy way or the hard way?

  There was steel in her tone this time. Only one way he could go: half-truths and more lies.

  ‘You’re kind of right. I really am Brad Ryan, but there’s an arson investigation into the spate of fires. You’re part of it, and so am I. This time I’m involved on the grassroots side of things. I’m working with Queensland Fire and Rescue. They wanted an outsider, someone from interstate. A Sydney fireman was perfect for the job. Someone found Jerry’s place, otherwise I would have rented a place in town. They thought it would give me space.’ He glanced across and met her gaze. ‘Not a nosey neighbour.’

  She patted his knee. ‘Okay, so you can’t tell me everything. I can understand that for now. But don’t expect me to settle for a watered-down explanation when all this is finished. No excuses then.’

  ‘My boss would be having a coronary if he could hear this conversation.’

  ‘He should have done his homework on your neighbour, then.’

  ‘He did. You must have checked out fine.’

  ‘Oh?’ That stopped her in her tracks.

  Was there something they’d missed, he wondered? ‘Apparently your work history is exemplary.’

  ‘Of course.’ She sounded wary. He’d definitely just touched a sensitive issue. Now she attempted to deflect the conversation. ‘So, suspects?’

  He played along. ‘Narrowed it down to one.’

  ‘Someone I know?’

  ‘Unfortunately, yes.’

  ‘And you’re not going to tell me?’ she asked, sounding like she didn’t expect him to.

  ‘Spell it out, you mean? You’re the one with the skills, you work it out, if you haven’t already. This conversation is bad enough.’

  ‘Actually, it’s not a bad thing at all. I don’t usually kiss my colleagues, but it’s cheered me up no end to know that technically I haven’t, because you’re not really here. You’re not real. It opens up a whole new world of possibilities.’ Her touch on his temple was the lightest of caresses. She smoothed his hair back and he almost groaned.

  Instead, he swallowed, kept his eyes focused on the road ahead. Was that how she saw him? A casual liaison that wasn’t real? Something to amuse her?

  The longing slammed into him and it hurt. He didn’t want this to be a casual relationship. He wanted to be the person she believed him to be. He didn’t want lies between them. But …

  He couldn’t do a damn thing. He was what he was. And he was mightily screwed up. He wished to hell he’d met her in another time and another place. Despite everything today, or perhaps because of it, he wanted to pick up where they’d left off before Speedy showed up. The Ryan who hid under so many layers of lies had a connection with this woman. It scared him. It inspired him. It made him drunk with its possibilities.

  He pushed it all away and tried to retreat into his role, but he couldn’t. This was too important. ‘Don’t make me something I’m not.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’ Her voice almost sounded sad, but he didn’t dare look at her, afraid of what she might see, might recognise. How did she do this to him? Her next words tipped everything on its head.

  ‘So, the suspect. It’s Speedy, isn’t it?’

  Chapter 34

  ‘FUCK it,’ Speedy spat, watching the car turn out onto the road. ‘Silly bitch. How can she do that to Dan?’ He slammed his fist into a locker, the pain sharpening his anger. She should be protecting her son, not inviting a monster into their home. How blind could women be? How fuckin’ driven by their own lust that they couldn’t see what was happening?

  He’d fix it. It would be easy. Brad Ryan would take the fall for the arson attack on Greentrees and fuckin’ well die in the blaze. The scum had preyed on a boy for the last time.

  Speedy knew how to make it happen.

  He’d done it before. Killing the first time is the hardest. It gets easier every time.

  He could still remember puking his lunch up as his filthy stepfather’s blood pooled on the floor of the car. It felt like his guts were going to come right out of his body. He’d had no remorse as he bundled his unconscious mother into the passenger’s seat, then steered the car off the road and towards the embankment. Once the momentum took it, he only had to watch the car bounce and roll and ricochet down the hill until it hit the bottom and ignited.

  Later, his hands had shaken as he washed, and washed, and washed the blood off them. He was rubbing them together now and had to make a conscious effort to stop.

  His body was consumed with old anger. He tried to walk it off, checking the depot’s windows and doors, reliving that day in Canberra when he’d killed for the second time. It was still so clear in his mind, so sharply in focus, that he doubted it would ever fade.

  Stephen, the almost-retired arson investigator, had worked out who was lighting the fires around Canberra. Too clever by far. The sadness in the old man’s lined face when he’d found Speedy at Chris and Kaitlyn’s house had almost broken Speedy’s resolve. Stephen was there to warn his son-in-law, Chris, that his half-brother was out of jail and looking for him. He’d dared to offer Speedy help. Help, for God’s sake!

  Speedy hadn’t meant to hit him, but Stephen wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t believe him when Speedy had said this was the only way to stop Chris from repeatin
g the patterns of his father. The old man’s eyes had accused him right up until they glazed over. Speedy had cried for that death, bawled like a baby.

  Then Chris had showed up. Speedy had no choice. His half-brother wouldn’t believe that his own father had been a monster, that their shared mother was complicit by her inaction. He wouldn’t listen when Speedy described what he’d endured as a child at the hands of his stepfather and his cosy circle of friends. Speedy had felt nothing as the iron bar bucked in his hands and Chris fell to the floor. The fire he lit consumed his brother, purified through heat and flames. But then he’d had to light another fire to cover his trail, and that one had turned into a monster.

  Then Kaitlyn had taken her son, her precious Daniel, and fled. He’d lost them for a while. She’d been clever, changed back to her maiden name, taken her mother and moved a long way away from Canberra. But he’d found them eventually. Now here they all were, and he was losing her, losing Daniel again.

  He tried to stop the shaking. He was tired. For five years he’d lived his dream. He’d been inside her house, touched her clothes, her piano. He had some keepsakes. He didn’t want to harm her. Not then.

  But now?

  The anger pushed him to his feet again.

  If it was all going to end, then he was going out in a fucking blaze.

  McCormack. McCormack and his friggin’ demands. That’s what had caused all this. His lips thinned into a tight line. After he’d shot at McCormack to scare him, when the fool had surprised him poking around in Jerry’s house, he’d tracked him to Yungaburra. The car was still there, with its shattered window and bullet holes. What the fuck was McCormack doing visiting Ryan? Trying to soften him up to buy the land? Man was a friggin’ idiot. Ryan was only renting.

  Speedy locked the doors to the RFB building, touched the lock for luck one last time. His feet seemed to drag as he walked to his ute. The drive home felt interminable.